Clara dashed across the campus, her backpack bouncing against her shoulders like it had a life of its own. The lecture hall doors were already closing, and she froze for a split second, debating whether to try slipping through or admit defeat.
With a gulp of courage, she squeezed past the last few stragglers, muttering a tiny, "sorry" that got lost under the shuffle of papers and footsteps.
The classroom had that faint smell of chalk dust and overused chairs, but Clara barely noticed. All she noticed was the professor's eyes narrowing at her like she'd just committed a crime. "Late again, Ms. Bennett," he said, voice sharp but bored, as if he had done this dance a hundred times before.
Before she could even settle, the dreaded words came: "And for this week, everyone will have assignments, seven due by Friday. No exceptions." Clara's heart sank. Seven assignments? Seven? Not her day. Not today.
She slumped into the closest seat, trying to blend into the beige wall behind her. Her notes were scattered, her pen missing, and she swore she could feel every pair of eyes on her. She made a mental note to apologize later… maybe.
By the time the lecture mercifully ended, Clara's shoulders felt heavier than when she'd arrived. But outside the building, a familiar sight made her heart lift: her friends, the seven who always somehow made life brighter, were waiting.
Emma leaned against the railing, arms crossed but with a smirk that said, "I know you're late, but we forgive you."
Sophie waved shyly, clutching a notebook. Isla bounced slightly on her toes, a ridiculous hat perched at a jaunty angle.
And the boys—Ethan with his calm, unreadable smile, Liam grinning like he had a secret joke, Noah's warm eyes meeting hers, and Alex standing tall, already plotting the first mini-challenge of the day.
Their smiles, their presence, were enough to make her forget the seven assignments, the awkward entrance, even the professor's glare. Clara inhaled, letting the warm breeze carry away the stress.
Clara slowed her steps.
Just a second ago, the weight of seven assignments had been sitting on her shoulders like bricks. Now it felt… lighter. Almost silly.
They were exactly where they always waited — under the old jacanda tree beside the lecture building, like it was some unspoken meeting spot only they knew about.
Emma spotted her first.
"There she is," Emma called, pushing off the railing. "The girl who treats 8 a.m. lectures like optional side quests."
Clara huffed. "It was five minutes late."
"Twenty," Liam corrected cheerfully.
"Traitor," Clara muttered.
"Hopeless," he grinned.
Sophie waved both hands like Clara had just returned from war instead of class. "We saved you a seat at lunch…"
Of course she did. Clara smiled softly.
Isla bounced over next, nearly tripping on her own shoelaces. "Guess what? I found a café that sells pancakes the size of your face. We're going after class. No excuses."
"You say that every week," Ethan said calmly, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"And every week we still go," Alex added with a smirk.
Noah simply stepped closer and handed Clara a cold bottle of water. "You look stressed."
Three words.
And somehow he always noticed.
"Seven assignments," she groaned.
Collective gasps.
"Seven?" Emma said. "Are these professors trying to end us?"
"That's criminal," Isla declared dramatically.
"We should run away," Liam added.
Clara laughed — really laughed this time, the kind that escaped before she could stop it.
God.
She missed this.
No — she never stopped having it.
But something about this moment felt… familiar.
Like déjà vu.
Standing in a loose circle. Teasing each other. Complaining about school. Sharing snacks. Waiting for everyone before moving.
Her chest tightened, warm and soft.
For a split second, the campus blurred.
And the past slipped in.
Suddenly it wasn't concrete paths and tall lecture halls.
It was sunlight flooding the old high school courtyard.
It was wrinkled uniforms and noisy corridors.
It was Liam running down the hallway because he was late — again — with Emma chasing him while yelling about unfinished homework.
It was Sophie sharing homemade cookies during lunch.
Isla convincing everyone to skip studying just to watch the sunset from the bleachers.
Alex dragging them to "just one quick practice" that turned into two hours.
Noah quietly saving seats for everyone like he always did.
And Ethan… sitting beside her under the window, sliding half his notes toward her because she'd forgotten hers.
Like always.
Like he never minded.
Back then everything felt smaller.
Tests felt bigger. Crushes felt scarier. Laughter felt louder.
But life felt… simpler.
No career pressure.
No "future plans."
No terrifying word called adulthood.
Just:
"What did you get for number three?"
"Who do you like?"
"Run, the teacher's coming!"
"Wait for me!"
Clara blinked.
The memory faded like chalk washed away by rain.
She was back on campus.
Back to now.
But the feeling stayed.
Ah…
She watched her friends bicker about where to eat, Liam dramatically accusing Emma of dictatorship while Isla tried to climb Alex's back for no reason.
Sophie was laughing quietly.
Noah was smiling.
Ethan glanced at her — just for a second — like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
And Clara tucked her hands into her sleeves, heart warm.
Ah yes…
Back to when we were younger.
Maybe they weren't in high school anymore.
Maybe things were harder now.
But somehow…
As long as they were together like this…
It didn't feel like they'd grown up at all.
"Oi, Bennett!" Emma called. "Stop zoning out and move. Pancakes aren't going to eat themselves."
Clara grinned and jogged toward them.
"Coming!"
And just like that, surrounded by laughter and noise and the seven people who felt like home—
Her bad day didn't stand a chance.